Read Online Something Strange and Deadly by Susan Dennard - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Dennard
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bone and muscle barely clung together.
I observed all this in a flash, but I did not pause. The piercing chill that followed gave me no choice but to move forward. Logic told me that following the Dead would lead to the Spirit-Hunters. I veered around the engine in pursuit of the skeleton but then skidded to a halt.
Corpses were everywhere, stumbling like drunks in a thick mass toward... I blinked in surprise. They were heading for the Hydraulic Annex, an extension of Machinery Hall that housed a giant, fountained pool. Even from here I could see the hazy mist that meant the fountainâs pumps and waterfalls still ran. But why would the Spirit-Hunters go there?
The closest corpse, a skeleton of gleaming bone and shredded flesh, tottered to a stop. Its exposed skull rotated toward me, and though its sockets were empty, I knew it sensed me. Four more Dead, each in varying stages of decomposition, slowed and turned to face me. My chest convulsed at movement crawling on a fresher oneâs skin. It even wore a dress like my own.
I lifted my parasol defensively before me. The corpse of the woman staggered closer. It was recently dead and more coordinated. When it was only three feet away, it lunged, both hands outstretched.
I swung with all the power I could muster, and the parasol connected with the corpseâs arms. It sent a shock up my limbs but hardly affected the Dead. I stumbled back, the urge to scream rising in my chest, and I swung again.
This time its elbow cracked inward and drove into the other outstretched arm. The corpse was momentarily slowed, but did not stop its attack. And now the other corpses were near and approaching from different angles. With the Corliss engine at my back, I knew I was trapped.
A small figure snaked through my vision. Bones crunched and flesh slapped as the Dead crumpled around me. The corpses continued to grab and claw, but they couldnât reach me. Their legs were shattered, and they could gain no ground.
An Asian boy stood before me, his fists at the ready and stance low. He was Chinese, judging by his long, black braid and half-shaved head. Yet he wore clothes like an American boy: brown knickerbockers and a waistcoat.
He jerked a thumb toward the Hydraulic Annex, and though his lips moved, his words were lost in the clanging of the alarm.
When I did not move, he reached out and wrenched me along with him. In five long strides, we reached the end of the Dead parade.
The boy reached the closest body, kicked the side of its knee, and pushed it over in a fluid, flat-palmed movement. He was a blur of feet and hands, repeating the same maneuver with each corpse. The key, I saw, was in destroying their legs, so I rushed forward and hurled my parasol at a corpseâs knee. The joint splintered and rolled inward; and before the Dead could grasp at me, I shoved it with my parasol. Down it went.
Then the alarm stopped. Only the vibrations hanging in the air gave any indication that it had sounded. My ears adjusted in moments, only to be filled with the scrape of bone on bone and the rip of straining flesh. Beyond that was the crash of waterfalls.
It was at that moment that I noticed the oppressive weight of summer heat. No more icy air or steaming breath. The spirit had left.
âJie!â a male voice bellowed. âHurry!â
It was Daniel, but there were still many Dead blocking our path to him. So we worked faster, a frenzy of attacks. We targeted the corpses directly in our way. My muscles protested and my elbows popped under each impact. Our progress through the rancid Dead was a surreal blur of flesh and bone.
Then the first misty droplets brushed at my face. We had reached the pool of the Hydraulic Annex.
I stared, momentarily surprised by the view before me. The pool was as wide as my house and twice as long, with a wooden guardrail surrounding it. At its back, a giant waterfall crashed. Along the sides, smaller pumps and cascades rocketed water in an
I observed all this in a flash, but I did not pause. The piercing chill that followed gave me no choice but to move forward. Logic told me that following the Dead would lead to the Spirit-Hunters. I veered around the engine in pursuit of the skeleton but then skidded to a halt.
Corpses were everywhere, stumbling like drunks in a thick mass toward... I blinked in surprise. They were heading for the Hydraulic Annex, an extension of Machinery Hall that housed a giant, fountained pool. Even from here I could see the hazy mist that meant the fountainâs pumps and waterfalls still ran. But why would the Spirit-Hunters go there?
The closest corpse, a skeleton of gleaming bone and shredded flesh, tottered to a stop. Its exposed skull rotated toward me, and though its sockets were empty, I knew it sensed me. Four more Dead, each in varying stages of decomposition, slowed and turned to face me. My chest convulsed at movement crawling on a fresher oneâs skin. It even wore a dress like my own.
I lifted my parasol defensively before me. The corpse of the woman staggered closer. It was recently dead and more coordinated. When it was only three feet away, it lunged, both hands outstretched.
I swung with all the power I could muster, and the parasol connected with the corpseâs arms. It sent a shock up my limbs but hardly affected the Dead. I stumbled back, the urge to scream rising in my chest, and I swung again.
This time its elbow cracked inward and drove into the other outstretched arm. The corpse was momentarily slowed, but did not stop its attack. And now the other corpses were near and approaching from different angles. With the Corliss engine at my back, I knew I was trapped.
A small figure snaked through my vision. Bones crunched and flesh slapped as the Dead crumpled around me. The corpses continued to grab and claw, but they couldnât reach me. Their legs were shattered, and they could gain no ground.
An Asian boy stood before me, his fists at the ready and stance low. He was Chinese, judging by his long, black braid and half-shaved head. Yet he wore clothes like an American boy: brown knickerbockers and a waistcoat.
He jerked a thumb toward the Hydraulic Annex, and though his lips moved, his words were lost in the clanging of the alarm.
When I did not move, he reached out and wrenched me along with him. In five long strides, we reached the end of the Dead parade.
The boy reached the closest body, kicked the side of its knee, and pushed it over in a fluid, flat-palmed movement. He was a blur of feet and hands, repeating the same maneuver with each corpse. The key, I saw, was in destroying their legs, so I rushed forward and hurled my parasol at a corpseâs knee. The joint splintered and rolled inward; and before the Dead could grasp at me, I shoved it with my parasol. Down it went.
Then the alarm stopped. Only the vibrations hanging in the air gave any indication that it had sounded. My ears adjusted in moments, only to be filled with the scrape of bone on bone and the rip of straining flesh. Beyond that was the crash of waterfalls.
It was at that moment that I noticed the oppressive weight of summer heat. No more icy air or steaming breath. The spirit had left.
âJie!â a male voice bellowed. âHurry!â
It was Daniel, but there were still many Dead blocking our path to him. So we worked faster, a frenzy of attacks. We targeted the corpses directly in our way. My muscles protested and my elbows popped under each impact. Our progress through the rancid Dead was a surreal blur of flesh and bone.
Then the first misty droplets brushed at my face. We had reached the pool of the Hydraulic Annex.
I stared, momentarily surprised by the view before me. The pool was as wide as my house and twice as long, with a wooden guardrail surrounding it. At its back, a giant waterfall crashed. Along the sides, smaller pumps and cascades rocketed water in an
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